The sun died on the horizon and the sound of gunfire died with it. The buzzing of the bare fluorescent corkscrew bulb above her head was the only sound—and the only light.
Lizzie lay back down and dozed fitfully.
The cell door slid open and into place with a metallic thud. Lizzie rolled out of the bed, groggy and looking for weapons.
Carter came through, tired, sweaty and dirty. “Come, if you’re coming.” His hair was disheveled; blood that didn’t look like it was his stained his shirt.
“What happened?”
“Independents happened. They want us to stay south. Think we’re honing in on their territory. The van carrying our last batch of folk is stranded. We need to get to ‘em before the Independents do.”
“Last batch?” Her heart stopped. “You mean my dad?”
“Yeah,” Carter said over his shoulder as he headed outside. Lizzie ran after him. He climbed into the Tank again; someone had chained the tires. He started the engine. The familiar sound was a small comfort. She could have turned and run, but where would she go? And Carter was her best chance to find her dad. She got in and closed the door. He drove like a demon, tossing snow away before she even buckled her seat belt.
Her cellphone had full bars now. Lizzie sent a text to Zach and pinged him her location, not even trying to conceal it from Carter. He had other things to worry about.
”I thought I heard gunfire.”
“That was gunfire. The Independents are getting gutsier as winter comes on.”
The wind whipped the snow sideways.
“But why are they fighting you?”
“They think The City is cutting into their territory. Which it is. And The City saves people from the Independents.
Carter stopped talking and drove. The full moon shone through the clouds. The volume of snowfall increased the higher they climbed—smaller flakes, but lots more of them.
He took the winding curves at an insane speed but the chained tires bit into the icy snow and kept them on the road.
The road leveled out in front of them and there was a big passenger van with people huddled around it. Lizzie’s eyes searched. Young men with guns, a dark haired woman, and... Her heart leaped. Jess! Then fell.
Where was her father? Carter pulled the Tank around the side of the van. Someone in khaki pants bent over the engine compartment. She had the door open and was running even before the Tank stopped.
“Dad?” Lizzie called. His head jerked upward, clunked against the hood. She heard a growl of anger. He turned, giving her a crooked smile, a reverse of the one she’d seen in the mirror for years. His arms opened as he limped toward her.
“Elizabeth.” His voice, soft and warm, was even more comforting in person.
Lizzie dove into his arms. They fell into the snow. “Oh, Daddy.” She buried her face in his warm chest. She heard his heartbeat, fast and strong. “I found you. You’re alive.”
“And so are you, my Elizabeth.” His arms squeezed her tight.
For the first time in forever maybe, Lizzie realized she felt safe. Her brain said she wasn’t, but her heart disagreed.
“Aww,” Jess said above her. “Can I have a hug, too? When you stop blubbering?”
Lizzie smiled, holding her dad tight. “Yeah. Jess. Come get yours.” Lizzie opened an arm, making room for Jess.
“Group hug,” Jess hollered and fell toward them, knocking a fresh puff of icy powder in Lizzie’s face.
Her father let out a muffled grunt.
Lizzie held them both with all her strength. Nothing else mattered. She had her dad and Jess for a bonus. Lizzie pulled back to look at him. Tears ran down his weather worn face. He reached a hand to cup her chin. She marveled in his smile.
Someone cleared their throat behind them. Carter’s gruff, voice, softer than usual, said. “All right, this reunion’s about the sweetest thing I’ve seen since before the goddamned plague hit, but if we don’t get out of here, the Independents are likely to break things up. We need the van running.”
His words brought Lizzie back into the moment. Carter jerked his head at a man holding a shotgun. “You keep watch.” Then his head disappeared under the hood.
Lizzie, Jess and her father climbed into the van, all of them grinning and glowing.
* * *
Zach slipped into his brown jacket and pulled the gray hood of his sweatshirt out of the neck. “Would’ve been smart to get some white clothes.”
“Oh, well.” Duke zipped his black jacket. “Let’s do this.” He gestured toward a ditch on the side of the road.
Zach followed. They hunched low and jogged along the shallow indent. The snow was light and about a foot deep, piled up on each side of the ditch, offering a bit more cover.
They stopped a hundred yards away from the vehicles. Once they left the ditch, there was no cover but the vehicles themselves. Damn. Zach saw the Tank. Assholes stole my truck!